


Your Lancelot

by eowells



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Disabled Character, Fix-It of Sorts, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, married percilot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 15:30:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11831625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eowells/pseuds/eowells
Summary: (au where James isn't cut in half, but is paralyzed instead)Percival loves Lancelot more than anything and nothing will change how he feels. Not even his lover being bound to a wheelchair.





	Your Lancelot

Percival sighed softly, unsure if he should leave the side of the man he held so dear. Lancelot - his husband - laid motionless in the hospital bed, tubes hooked up to his arms. He looked painfully frail, his skin a ghostly white, his chest barely rising with every breath he took. Merlin dubbed the man lucky to be alive. His reckless behavior while attempting a solo rescue mission had landed him here, most likely paralyzed. Merlin tried his best to cheer Percival up, saying how Lancelot was strong and would recover quickly. Percival knew better, though. He knew his husband would be devastated at the loss of mobility. 

Galahad had been bugging Percival to join him for tea ever since he arrived back to HQ with tears in his eyes. It seemed rude to keep the older agent waiting, but he just couldn’t bring himself to step away from Lancelot, even for a few moments. A hand rested on his shoulder, one he immediately recognized as Galahad. His eyes turned up towards the other agent, lips slightly parted with a protest already on the tip of his tongue.

Instead he was met with the words, “Have you slept any?”

Percival just shook his head, “I can’t. I’m afraid to leave him alone.”

A thoughtful look passed over Galahad’s face before he cautiously responded, “I could sit with him, if you’d like. There are two chairs in here after all.”

Percival swallowed hard against his anxiety before nodding. 

\---

The weeks following Lancelot’s injury were the hardest. Between Percival keeping tabs on Roxy and trying to keep Lancelot - well, James, now - from trying to stand up from his wheelchair, he was stretched thin. When Merlin deemed James paralyzed from the waist down and completely unable to re-enter combat on any circumstances, James didn’t take so kindly to it. James had grown quite grumpy these passing days in a manor so unlike him that it scared Percival. He feared he was losing his lover. Several days Percival returned home to James just staring out the window, not even paying any attention to him.

Percival entered the kitchen to find James sprawled out in the floor, his chair toppled on its side, and broken glass surrounding him. The floor under Percival’s feet was sticky with spilt alcohol as he stepped closer. He rushed to his lover’s side, pulling the broken man into his arms and holding him against his chest. He ran his fingers through James’ hair, untangling the dark strands in the process. James was falling apart right in front of him and he was powerless to stop it. James stared blankly ahead, barely aware of his husband’s presence. 

A sharp breath was drawn in by Percival, who was on the verge of tears. James had survived his run in with Gazelle, but at what costs? His legs? His job? His entire life? And Percival was forced to watch as the man he loved began to wither away in his depressed state. James had lost his dramatic flair. He’d joked when he first woke up and a few times since, but it wasn’t him. 

“Let’s get you to bed.” Percival whispered, forcing his voice to remain steady.

No response came from the man in his arms, not like he was expecting one. He slipped his arm under James’ knees and left the other resting gently on his back. He took a second to study the face of the man he loved, willing James to just look at him for fuck’s sake. Those beautiful eyes never even so much as shifted to him, even after Percival kissed him like he was the only thing that mattered. Percival wasn’t even sure he kissed back. When he came to the conclusion that he couldn’t help in the way James needed, he picked the man up and simply headed to their bedroom. 

With Harry’s help, he had moved the room downstairs to accommodate James’ disability. James had been reluctant to do so at first, but he soon succumbed to the fact that it would be easier on Percival at the end of the day. Percival eased James down onto the bed, kissing him softly. After he pulled away he gave James a sad smile, one James - even as drunk as he was - would never forget. As Percival headed out of the room, he began to loosen his tie and unbutton the top buttons of his shirt. He discarded his jacket on a nearby chair instead of placing in in the laundry bin. 

With tears in his eyes, he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. As he studied the mess in the kitchen, his heart began to sink deeper into his chest. James had most likely gotten drunk and tried to walk. Something about even just knowing that hurt Percival. The back of his hand swept across his cheek, wiping away any stray tears and pushing his glasses up in the process. In a swift motion, he pulled the wheelchair upright, letting his hand linger on the wheel for a few seconds.

\---

Percival came home injured from a mission a few weeks later, blood still flowing from his bottom lip. He stumbled into the kitchen, dragging the back of his hand across his lip in a slight frenzy to wipe the blood away before James had a chance to see. He surveyed the rest of the downstairs, only to find James laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. 

“You’re home,” James stated, his head rolling to the side so he could take in his lover’s appearance. He had begun to savor every moment with the other agent as of late, “I missed you. Part of me was beginning to think-”

“Shut up.” Percival crossed the room in just a few strides, grabbing his husband’s face and kissing him until they were left gasping for breath, “Just shut up, James.”

James’ strong arms slipped around Percival’s waist, pulling their bodies against each other. Percival didn’t complain as James began to rub his back. He waited for the other man to strike up a conversation, as James had been surprisingly more lively lately, but only silence met Percival’s hopes. Percival tried to spend as much time with James as he could and it seemed to be improving the ex-agent’s mood dramatically. He often spoke of Roxy’s training and how well she was performing. Sometimes James wanted to know how the other agents were doing. 

Though the most frequently shared topic between the two was of their missions as partners. Percival had avoided the topic at all costs at first, but James simply refused to have the biggest part of their lives be swept under the rug and forgotten about. The two soon found it easy to talk about missions spent bringing down bad guys and the places they’d seen. 

“How is she, Perci?” James lightly asked, “Roxy, I mean.”

Percival shuddered as James began to trace his jaw line with his thumb, “She’s incredibly strong, top of the class, even. I think she’ll make it.”

“Good. I’m proud of her and of you.”

“Lancelot…” He grabbed James’ hand, uttering the name without even thinking. His eyes widened at his mistake and he frantically attempted to correct himself, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.”

James just softly kissed Percival’s head before muttering, “I’ll always be your Lancelot.”


End file.
